A Twist on the Original
by Diablogyrl
Summary: Final season. Just a couple of friends and a night out. Jazz, drinking, a little eavesdropping. And the power of suggestion.  Duncan/Methos, Amanda/?  Ch. 2 is up!
1. Observational Humor

Ch.1

"She reminds me of Alexa," Methos said with a wistful air. He took a sip of his freshly replaced beer and sighed, lost in his own memories. Duncan looked back at the waitress that was now taking orders from the table next to them. He scrutinized her appearance, her gait, cocked his ear to catch the trail of her voice, searching for anything that might trigger this bout of nostalgia from his companion.

"I can't see it, Methos," Duncan admitted after a few minutes of study. Methos pulled himself out of his reverie and eyed him.

"It's not a physical resemblance," the old immortal replied casually. "It's more of a… sensory resemblance."

Duncan looked puzzled. "How do you mean?"

Methos chuckled. "Same perfume, MacLeod."

Duncan rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the stage, where Joe and his band were playing a lively set that had some patrons creating a make-shift dance floor between the tables. He took a sip of his own drink, bobbing his head to the beat of the music. A quick glance at Methos showed a similar enjoyment of the rhythms.

Methos turned to comment on the selection, but noticed something more interesting in the form of a tingling towards the bar entrance. "Well, well. Look who's come to liven up the party." He smirked at Duncan, who had already turned to see who Methos was indicating.

"Amanda," he groaned. He slipped slowly down in his chair. The older immortal's eyes crinkled in merriment.

"Is it my imagination, MacLeod, or are you actually trying to _avoid_ Amanda?"

"Not exactly. I more… just don't want her to know I'm here." He gave a small smile and slipped further down in his seat.

Methos snorted into his drink.

Duncan looked furtively back towards the area Amanda was heading, and slid completely off the chair to head in the direction of the restrooms, whispering a quick, "Back in a minute!" and disappearing into the small crowd of dancing guests.

Methos had just finished rearranging the items on the table when a voice whispered into his ear, "Fancy meeting you here." He turned with a knowing grin to face Amanda.

"Amanda! I didn't even know you were in Paris!"

She waved noncommittally. "I'm just here for a few days. I was trying to slip in and out, but I ran into an old friend." Methos stifled a laugh at the near-parallel situation. Amanda looked at the table with interest. "I assumed you'd be here with MacLeod, but it looks like you're here alone?" She did little to disguise her curiosity.

"Just enjoying the atmosphere, and the drinks on the house, of course," he countered smoothly. "I thought MacLeod was back in Seacouver?" He unobtrusively shifted the other man's empty glass under the coat he'd pulled off the Scot's chair.

"Well, you know Duncan." Amanda shrugged. "Anyway, I'd stay and chat, but I'd be ignoring some very pleasant company." She gave a saucy wink.

Methos watched her saunter back over to her nameless date, an attractive man by all accounts, and one whom he suspected was not such an _old_ friend after all. He wondered how long they would stay. Then he wondered how long MacLeod would hide in the bathroom. He ordered another drink for the man and returned his coat to the chair. Fifteen minutes later, Duncan immerged, scanning the bar for the latest immortal addition and giving wide berth to that side of the establishment.

Finally sitting down, he downed his new drink and gestured for a refill. "Did she see me?"

Methos shook his head with mild exasperation. "No, MacLeod, she did not see you. In fact, I managed to convince her I was here alone." Duncan visibly relaxed. "Besides, I doubt she's looking for you at all. She seems to have brought her own entertainment."

Looking surprised, Duncan peered around at her table, just noticing her companion. With a slight frown on his face, he turned back to the man across from him. "I'm glad she's preoccupied then."

"You don't look it."

Duncan furrowed his brown slightly. "No, I am. I guess I'll just never get used to seeing her with other men."

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" Methos pried. He settled back in his seat, a sly grin spreading across his face. Duncan looked at him sharply.

"No, you don't."

Methos raised his hands in acquiescence. Mentally, he rubbed his hands in glee. It looked like he would be able to indulge in one of his favorite pastimes tonight; getting a rise out of Duncan MacLeod. He watched on as Duncan finished off his refill, and then indicated that the waitress should bring the bottle.

_Oh, this was going to be good._

An hour and a half after Amanda and her unnamed guest arrived, they had finished off two bottles of wine and were getting quite cozy with one another, heedless to their surroundings. Duncan had kept a brutal pace with his drinking, and looked rather stormy and unsettled in his seat.

Methos had spent the last half of that time subtly egging Duncan on, engaging in a running commentary about the couple's actions across the room, and embellishing certain details in order to see the highlander clench his fists in frustration. He was midway through a vivid description of the guy's wandering hands when Duncan slammed the bottle down on the table.

"Enough, Methos!" Duncan glared across the table, cheeks slightly flushed. "Whatever they're up to over there is none of my concern!"

"Oh, now, MacLeod," Methos needled, "don't be surly. I was just keeping you abreast of the situation."

It was Duncan's turn to snort.

"I'm sure you'd want to know if she started back over in this direction, wouldn't you?" He leaned his chair back and took a long draft of his beer.

"I'm sure you could just tell me if that was the case."

"Careful, my friend. You'll ruin the mood."

"And what mood would I be ruining, exactly?" Duncan quirked an eyebrow.

"Certainly not your own; that went downhill as soon as you got back from the toilet." The older man stretched his arms up above his head and fixed his companion with a shrewd gaze. "I think you need some fresh air, Mac. Might help you clear your head a bit."

Duncan hesitated for a moment, but then nodded in agreement. He and Methos rose from the table, the former stopping to leave a few bills for the waitress. Methos noticed out of the corner of his eye that Amanda was signaling for the check, and maneuvered the two of them deftly through the throng of patrons and out the door.

It was a cool evening, but without a breeze it was pleasant. The city ebbed and flowed around them, and Duncan took several breaths to steady himself. _Amanda. Why here? Why now?_ Duncan mused. He always enjoyed the company of his long time friend and sometime lover, but she did have a habit of getting him involved in situations he'd rather not be in. His thoughts shifted to his current company. Methos stood slightly apart from him, hands buried deep in the pockets of his dark jeans, eyes scanning the Parisian skyline, face inscrutable. _Now there's a tough nut to crack_, Duncan thought. The man was fiercely self-serving, and completely without remorse about it. Yet, as their association grew longer, he felt that the old immortal's armor was beginning to chink, and slivers of decency and compassion were leaking through.

Methos was caught up in his own machinations when he spied Amanda and her old friend on the other side of the door. He quickly gestured for MacLeod to become scarce and leaned nonchalantly against the doorjamb, nodding to the couple as they exited and turned down an alley next to the bar. He heard the faint melody of Amanda's laughter, and took a risk that they might have stopped somewhere in the alleyway. He gave a low whistle to signal the coast was clear, and Duncan reappeared a moment later, bemused.

"What do you say we take a walk? It's chilly just standing around." Methos did a little shuffle in place to emphasize his case. At Duncan's nod of ascent, he began strolling unhurriedly in the direction of the alley.

"Methos, can I ask you something?" Duncan was focusing on the ground, rolling a rock around with his foot.

"Ask anything you like." Methos grinned mischievously. "Just don't be upset if you don't get the answers you're looking for."

Duncan shook his head. "Maybe I won't ask then…"

"Go on, then. What do you want to know?"

Duncan looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Back when you rode with Kronos. When you were a horseman…" Methos stopped walking and looked up into the night sky.

"A thousand regrets, MacLeod. Remember?" Methos continued walking, glancing into the alley as he passed it. He stopped again, just on the other side of the opening, and turned to look at MacLeod. "Coming?"


	2. Sneaking Suspicion

Ch. 2

Methos could see the change in Duncan's expression as he neared the opening of the alleyway. The sounds were muffled, but distinctive, and Methos bounced on his toes in anticipation as Duncan slowed to a stop and involuntarily glanced down the gap. He gave a small gasp and looked forward quickly, suddenly off-balance again.

"Everything ok, Mac?" Methos inquired with fake obliviousness. He shifted his face into a mask of concern?

"No… Yes… I just…," Macleod floundered for a moment. "Do you hear something?" He eyed Methos with suspicion.

Methos paused and cocked an ear in Duncan's direction. After a few seconds, he shook his head. "Do you hear something, Macleod?" He took a step towards the other man.

"No! No. I suppose not. Let's go." Duncan put out a hand to stop Methos from advancing. He tried to brush past him, but Methos quickly threw out his arm to halt him in his tracks.

"Now, wait, my friend. If you say you heard something, I believe you. Let's make sure it's not something that will get us killed." Methos headed back to the opening of the alleyway.

"Methos, wait!" Duncan stretched out to catch him, but it was too late. Methos had stopped abruptly and his mouth had formed a small 'O' upon the discovery of the sounds. He gave a sly look to Duncan. "So you _did_ hear something, Mac. Why didn't you just say it was lovers in the night?"

"I dunno. I guess I thought it might have been-"

"Amanda!" Methos finished for him, feigning surprise. "Should have guessed, eh?" Duncan offered a faint, slightly nauseated smile. Methos replied with a low whistle. "Has that woman no shame?"

"Methos, this is not something we should be doing." Duncan shifted from one foot to the other. "Let's go."

"Don't misunderstand, Macleod. I'm not exactly prone to voyeurism, but she's out here for all the world to see. Currently, I find myself mesmerized." He turned his attention to the uneasy man at his side. "Care to have a look?" Methos inclined his head down the alley and his eyebrows rose in invitation.

"It's wrong!" Duncan insisted. He glanced around nervously. "Can we just go?"

Methos paid him no heed. Looking down the alley, he could see the outline of Amanda and her 'old friend,' locked in a passionate kiss, hands exploring wildly. The sounds that drifted to the entrance were becoming decidedly heated, and he took an experimental step into the alcove.

Duncan leapt at the bait, and bounded over. "Don't! Just leave it, Meth…" His voice trailed away as he caught his first glimpse of the fair immortal and her lover, staring fiercely into each other's eyes as their wandering hands began to dip into clothing. In between buttons, under hems, and down collars, Duncan found himself entranced, warring feelings of jealousy and excitement rooting him to the spot. He couldn't tear his eyes away if he'd tried.

Neither could Methos. He found himself intensely, unbelievably aroused.

By _Duncan_.

What had started off as an amusing night of distraction for him had abruptly turned into something much more… base. The transformation was surprising; he had not imagined ever being in this position with the Scot, although he would have been foolish to deny the man's physical attractiveness and general charisma. His gazed drifted to Duncan's strong hands, which were involuntarily clenching and unclenching, and he clenched his own fists in response. His eyes traveled the contours of the highlander's lean legs, and stopped briefly on his shapely derriere. He drew them quickly upward when he heard Duncan gasp, and peered over to see a flash of pale skin, and watched as the shoulder of Amanda's silken shirt slipped down to her elbow.

A strangled sigh escaped Duncan as he witnessed the lover seize Amanda's breast and swallow her taunt nipple. She threw her head back in silent ecstasy, and he felt his pants tighten considerably. _This is wrong, this is wrong, we should go_, was the litany in his head, but he could not find the strength to act on his intentions. He was lost in the ghostly sensations of being in the other man's position, feeling Amanda running her hands through _his_ hair, lips brushing along _his_ neck, nails dragging along _his_ back. He licked his lips, swallowing heavily, and started at the unexpected puff of breath on his ear.

"Can you feel it, too, Macleod?" Methos whispered softly, breathily, urging him not to look away. "Can you picture yourself there, in the alley, pulling her legs around your waist, reaching under her skirt to feel her hot, damp, waiting for you?" Duncan shuddered violently and mouthed an answer that had no voice. The old man was on the verge of losing sensibilities, and giving in to this inexplicable surge of lust for his friend. He stole a furtive look at the couple ahead, flushing with warmth as Amanda slid the man's pants down to his knees and followed to rest on her own. He scanned the street around him, praying for no one to notice, and began to maneuver Duncan further into the side street. With a gentle push, he guided the spellbound immortal to brace against a stack of boxes neatly tucked behind a dumpster, conveniently shielding them from both passerby and the occupied pair ahead.

Duncan exhaled sharply as, almost in unison, Amanda slid the length of her partner's cock into her mouth and a firm, cool hand slid into his pants to wrap around his own fiery one. He felt a momentary tug as his button and fly were released, and forgot to breathe as the hand took advantage of the open space and began to stroke him in time with her ministrations. He felt himself leaking with his overwhelming arousal, and the hand quickly gathered the lubricant to simulate the moist cavern of Amanda's mouth. Duncan's brain must have stopped forming coherent thoughts, because all he could think was that he wanted to be in the exact same position as her companion, and he knew he wasn't alone. There was someone who could serve that purpose, even though he had never given thought to it before. With glazed eyes, he whipped his head around to pierce Methos with a look of unbridled passion.

Methos' hand stilled as he met the younger man's blazing stare. For half a heartbeat, he wondered if sanity was about to restore itself. He was nearly giddy with relief when Duncan shoved him against the boxes and pressed the length of his body against him. Through gritted teeth, Duncan ordered him to get down on his knees. With a wry grin, he pushed back with his body, just enough to create space to inch slowly down to the ground. The noises were muffled between the boxes and dumpster, but he was confident that the scene would play out parallel to whatever was going on at the end of the lane. He wasted little time, opening the pants further and easing the heavy manhood from the confines of his underwear. Taking a quick breath, he opened his mouth and coaxed the hard shaft down into his throat, stifling the gag reflex just enough to stay quiet. He felt the length twitch, and allowed his eyes to roll back into his head at the rush of desire that accompanied the movement. Methos set an unhurried pace, drawing the member in and out of his waiting mouth, and gave his tongue free reign to tease and please as it liked.

Duncan could barely keep his eyes open as he reveled in the sensations. The ghost of past encounters was far overshadowed by the intense heat and deft skill of the man below him. He shifted his interest almost completely from the activities ahead and drifted in the searing wetness of the former horseman's lips and tongue. The building rush of orgasm brought him out of his reverie, and he searched around wildly for a diversion. He settled back on Amanda and her companion, who also seemed to have reached his limit. He watched him grab her forcefully, and spin her around to pin her against the brick wall they had been leaning on earlier. Duncan could see the gleam of her feral smile as the man pushed her skirt above her hips and thrust his dripping cock in between her waiting legs. The sounds of her screams of pleasure were going to be his undoing.

Methos felt a hand in his short hair tighten and jerk his mouth away from its new toy brusquely. Dazed and fevered, he was hauled up to eye level and met with a scorching kiss. His brows flew into his hairline with surprise, and of their own accord his hands found themselves wound in the long silky locks of the Scotsman. Just as quickly as it started, Duncan broke the kiss and gave Methos a raw, searching, look. He met it with his own sizzling gaze and waited. He didn't wait long; Duncan spun him around to face the boxes and leaned in close to whisper heavily into his ear.

"I'm going to f*ck you until you can't sit down, old man."

Methos nearly choked on his own saliva. "You can try, boy scout." He brazenly pressed his ass back into the crotch behind him.

Duncan took a moment to grind their hips together before he roughly pushed the older man's pants down his legs, popping the button and separating the zipper in the process. He quelled any objections from his cohort by bending him forward and insinuating himself between the other immortal's thighs. He registered a soft groan at his dominance, and grinned wickedly before impaling the man, entering in one swift motion and feeling the light pop of flesh around him. He was granted a muffled yelp and proceeded to fulfill his own prophesy.

Methos was astounded with the part of his brain that was working. Duncan was not the aggressor, not the rough, dominating, stallion that was riding him to the brink of insanity. He knew there would be blood when it was over, knew that the highlander had it pegged and he would not be sitting down anytime soon. He could not have been more sexually wound up, and was near overload with desire. He was even shocked as he began to climax. Only 5000 years of self preservation helped him to keep silent as he came all over the boxes he was clinging to. Panting, he prayed fervently that he would not pass out only to be discovered by the exhibitionist duo that influenced this encounter in the first place. He noticed that Duncan had picked up the pace, and concentrated hard on not getting hard again, for situation's sake.

The tightening of the muscles under his hands was the only warning Duncan had before Methos saturated the makeshift wall in front of them. Driven insatiable with the sight and smell, his primitive urges took over and Duncan gave in to the throbbing need to claim. He'd never experienced anything like it, and he dimly hoped the other immortal would come out unscathed. With a few harsh breaths and a guttural sigh, he emptied himself inside the willing receptacle below him. Almost instantly, he remembered the reason they were in the alley in the first place and sunk down into the niche with closed lids, letting Methos trail after him.

A twinkling laugh captured both men's attention, and they stilled just before Amanda and her well satisfied accomplice strolled past their hiding place and out onto the street. Methos held his breath a second longer before expelling it in one long moment. Giving Duncan a sidelong look, he quickly put himself back together, pulling his jeans together as best he could and pulling his sweater down to cover the damage. The other man appeared to be deep in thought, and Methos thought it might be better to leave him that way. He had some things to sort out himself. Without a word, he stepped lightly out of the alcove and shoved his hands into his pockets, taking long strides and disappearing into the night.

Duncan was slow to open his eyes, and was puzzled to find that he was alone.


	3. Will Wonders Never Cease?

Ch. 3

"C'mon, c'mon," Methos mumbled impatiently, tapping his foot and waiting for the light to change so he could cross the street. Traffic was mild, the lateness of the hour making it possible to slink through the streets of Paris without drawing too much attention. Methos was grateful that he was almost back to his flat; his sweater was barely long enough to cover his gaping trousers, and having walked with his hands shoved in his pockets to hold them up had given him one hell of a cramp between his shoulder blades.

His mind was still reeling, and he'd resolved not to think about what had happened until he was safely off the streets. He resolutely put one foot in front of the other, dodging passerby by slim margins. _Three more blocks... now two... Rue de Charmaine..._

Methos took the steps into the building two at a time. "Thank God," he muttered as he slipped inside the entryway. He kicked off his loafers and slid his ruined pants down his legs. His soiled boxers followed and the sight of the blood splotches triggered a twitch in his muscles, causing pain to flare as the memories pushed themselves into the foreground of his mind. He stripped off his sweater and undershirt, balling up the lot and stuffing them in to his clothes hamper on his way into the bathroom.

Methos leaned in to the shower stall and twisted the faucet to the hottest setting, switching the spray from rain to massage. Standing in front of the toilet, he took a moment to relieve himself while waiting for the water to heat. And when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror, the tight reign he had on his seething thoughts snapped. His mind's eye was flooded with images from the past hour. Flashes of pale skin in the shadows… the coarse grain of cardboard close to his face… a glimmer of white teeth hidden behind kiss-swollen lips… thick ropes of ejaculate splattering onto dusty boxes…

Methos shuddered, feeling the ghost of arousal move through his slowly overheating body. Stepping closer to the mirror, he was able to make out the faint impressions of fingers along his hips, with two or three bloodied half-crescent indents discernable among the mottled shapes. His regenerative abilities would erase the evidence by morning, but he already knew the memories would never fade. Sighing deeply, the former Horseman eased his body into the steaming spray.

A few moments spent adjusting to the temperature of the water, and the old immortal was finally ready to think about the rest of the night. He was so confused, both at his reaction to Macleod, and more so, Mac's reaction to HIM. Methos tried to single out the moment he lost control of himself with the Scotsman, but it wouldn't come to him. Any way he looked at it, he could only see the slow build of psychological pleasure as he unsettled the younger man, leading up to the sharp spike of arousal that led to his ravishing. It was seamless.

But Duncan… there was no rhyme or reason to how completely the man had given himself over to the moment. His self-control was legendary. And as far as Methos had experienced, Macleod was simply devoid of same-sex lovers over his atypically long lifespan. Whatever the thought process, he realized Duncan Macleod was going to have a LOT on his mind. Methos was bashfully relieved to have escaped his company for that.


End file.
